Together in the restaurant,
Our conversation touches on trivial things.
Under less certain skies
Camaraderie still flourishes,
Here, as it may in distant hostile climes.

Maybe there could be a small chance of reconciliation.
Every moment carries hope.

I sit thinking hopeful thoughts, as you sip your coffee.

Am I losing any hope, I wonder, stirring my Americano?
Maybe so.

Burning coffee beans roar in the cappuccino machine.
Umber-brown aromas scorch the air, I taste it,
Remembering the brown Cafés of Amsterdam.
Now you finally look at me,
Intensely; staring, analysing.
Now I wonder what you are thinking, as
Gentle shadows flatter your searching eyes.

For a minue or so, we say nothing.
Only your breathing, my breathing, and
Roaring bursts of espresso steam behind the counter.

You ask if I'm OK... I nod.
Only I know that,
Under this calm façade, I burn to say something more.